With Saintess Sylvia’s command, the Court Orchestra on the second floor also began to move under the conductor’s waving hand.
The melodious dance music spread out, and the dance floor below gradually became lively.
Roman had just stepped down from the high platform when he felt a dizzying sense of being lost in a sea of beauty.
Golden-haired, blue-eyed cat-like beauties, black-haired mature women with youthful faces and ample figures, and even women dressed in black-veiled gowns resembling widows—all gathered around.
“Congratulations, Your Highness.”
A sweet and sticky voice sounded, and an unfamiliar woman smiled at him, raising the High-Stemmed Glass in her hand.
“Congratulations for what?”
Roman blurted out in a daze.
“Of course, congratulations on officially joining the Cathedral.”
The golden-haired, blue-eyed woman smiled, her tone as enchanting as a fairy.
“From now on, we’re all one family. Whether we look down or up, we’ll see each other, so of course we need to get along with you first~”
“This glass of wine is my sincerest blessing to you.”
With that, she elegantly raised her neck and downed the wine in the High-Stemmed Glass in one go.
“How old are you this year, Your Highness?”
A black-haired, youthful-faced woman with a voluptuous figure interjected, the scent of her drink wafting as she leaned in with her glass.
“Sixteen Years Old.”
Roman thought for a moment and replied, subtly stepping half a pace back.
“Sixteen, huh? Still a child, but already a little adult~”
She licked her lips, speaking with ambiguous meaning.
“Speaking of which, aren’t you a bit too cute? Did you grow up eating cuteness?”
This time, the speaker didn’t even bother to hide her intentions, openly teasing.
Roman glanced sideways.
It was the pretty widow in black veil.
Her deep, seductive features and well-maintained figure, with a snowy-white, supple chest exposed at the front, exuded a maternal allure that made one want to lean in and breathe her scent.
Roman, however, had no such thoughts—he was just curious. Were there widows in the Cathedral too?
Come to think of it, images of Rosetta and Bianca had given him preconceived notions that the Holy Light Church, like the Catholic Church in his previous life, would have all sorts of strict rules.
But in truth, when the Goddess Fara first established the Cathedral, apart from basic rules like not using violence recklessly, all other doctrines were written as they came to mind, emphasizing a casual freedom.
As a result, the Holy Light Church internally displayed a wild growth, splitting into various factions supporting different faith doctrines.
At one point, the division was so extreme it bordered on schism: one side practiced asceticism like a group of devoted monks, strictly prohibiting any indulgent behavior; the other indulged desires openly, much like the Concubine Sect Lin Xuan had heard of in his previous life, shamelessly coupling in public.
It was only through Saintess Sylvia’s iron-fisted balance that those extremists were executed or expelled, bringing the Church to its current state of relative harmony.
“Attendant, come here.”
The pretty widow beckoned a nearby Maid, taking a freshly filled High-Stemmed Glass from the tray she carried.
“All right.”
She waved her hand to dismiss the Maid, then turned, her previously cold expression replaced by a fawning smile.
“At your age, you should try some adult things.”
Roman awkwardly greeted the surrounding female demons, fully aware that he absolutely couldn’t drink this wine.
After all, the dangerous scene where Tania almost rode him still lingered in his mind.
“Thank you for your kindness, but I’d better not.”
“This kind of thing? Your Highness, this is top-quality stuff~”
The pretty widow swirled the glass, teasing.
“You, woman, can’t you see His Highness is underage?”
The golden-haired beauty slapped the pretty widow’s shoulder, scolding her.
“For His Highness, this is hardly a good thing.”
“That’s exactly why I want to help His Highness lose his innocence~”
The pretty widow raised an eyebrow.
“Precisely because you don’t understand, I need to teach you what’s good and what’s bad~”
Seeing her teasing, Spring Cat-like expression, Roman thought that in a different place, she might well have taught him what was good and bad in person.
“Tut tut~”
Most of the women surrounding them still had some shame; such brazen words were beyond them, though they were happy to watch someone else say them.
Just as Roman was about to look over their shoulders and search for Milis for help, he suddenly sensed the flow of time around him shift.
In the blink of an eye, he was transported to the other side of the hall, leaving the group of aroused but frustrated women behind.
No wonder people often spoke of time and space together—though fundamentally different, their effects could be strikingly similar.
A beautiful, familiar folding fan unfolded before him.
Then, its owner appeared elegantly in front of Roman, her moist apricot eyes shimmering as she looked at him.
Her features were pure, yet her every movement was enchanting.
Rosalind covered her face with her fan, amethyst eyes smiling softly at him.
“Your Highness, were you comfortable in that Paradise just now?”
She asked gently.
Roman wondered if it was because of some unconscious Oriental element Rosalind carried, but he felt no resistance toward her—instead, he wanted to get closer.
Moreover, she seemed connected to the Holy Throne, which piqued his curiosity.
“Thank you, sister, for saving my life.”
Roman patted his chest, feigning relief.
“Sister?”
Rosalind’s fox-like smile froze for a moment, then grew even brighter.
Soon, she was laughing so hard tears welled in her eyes, and she hurriedly wiped them away with her arm.
After being called ‘sister’ by Roman, she even felt a bit dazed, wanting to check her appearance in a mirror to see what she looked like now.
“Your mouth is really sweet. When did you get honey on it?”
Rosalind lightly tapped Roman’s nose with her folding fan, her gaze growing more affectionate.
“No, I’m just telling the truth.”
Roman met her eyes earnestly.
“Speaking of which, I should thank you for helping me out of trouble so many times.”
Rosalind’s eyes widened.
This silly child—of course she had to help him out, or how else could they have time alone?
Her large, bright eyes turned slightly, and Rosalind chuckled.
“Your Highness, may I have the honor of a dance?”
“If you stand here, I’m sure you’ll be surrounded again soon~”
“Yes….”
Roman glanced at the dance floor, feeling hesitant.
He also wanted a chance to talk quietly with this Saint-rank lady.
“Rosalind Auntie, why are you here?”
A cool voice came from the side, and then a hand naturally took Roman’s free right hand.
Milis, expressionless, stepped between Roman and Rosalind.
“Auntie?”
Rosalind was stunned for a moment, then shook her head with a soft laugh.
Her gentle laughter seemed to hide a trace of loneliness, her brows and eyes flickering with fragile sorrow.
“You child.”
Rosalind quickly composed herself and reached out to pat Milis’s head.